


Soft Reset

by Polargheist



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Because alpha team and Torres deserved better, Canon appropriate gore and body horror, Everyone Is Alive, For the most part, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, I'm probably the only person in the world who ships these two I give no fucks, Loss, Manipulation, Stefano continues to rot in hell where he belongs tho, This is spite fic, Unless I haven't figured out a way to retcon their death yet, how do tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 11:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polargheist/pseuds/Polargheist
Summary: Something went wrong. Union shouldn't exist anymore. They shouldn't still be in STEM. Liam O'Neal shouldn't even be alive. Yet here he is, wasting away in Sanctuary Hotel while a world that shouldn't be tries to set itself right again.





	Soft Reset

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have any huge plans or much of an ending in mind or anything for this story really, just an idea general direction I'd like it to go in. Just something to write til I lose interest, I guess! Hopefully that doesn't happen any time soon, cuz I haven't been this inspired to create something in quite a while.
> 
> I'm leaning very heavily on headcanon for this because the finer aspects of STEM are still pretty vague and TEW woefully underappreciates its side characters :/

Liam O’Neal wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened his eyes.

The familiar workshop that made up his Room wasn't it, but it was appreciated all the same. He’d always figured there was no such thing as an afterlife, and the thought had always scared him. This was so much more preferable to not existing.

Most Mobius agents couldn’t access their Rooms after the creation of Union. The safe houses were much more practical anyways. But things are different when you’re dead, apparently. His workshop was a place he’d spent a lot of time in outside of Mobius, building computers, fixing old tvs, whatever kept him busy. At least he’d have something to do in the afterlife. He idly wiped a little dust off a stack of broken monitors and looked around.

Something was....Off, and not in the way things in STEM were usually slightly off. The last time O’Neal had been in his Room it had been clean, well-lit, with music playing softly from the radio on his desk. Exactly how he kept it in the real world. Now it was dark and silent. And almost suffocatingly warm. The smell of something charred and rotten permeated the air and set him on edge.

“What's going on?” O’Neal found himself whispering, as if avoiding the attention of a presence that wasn't really there. He had a hunch, though he tried unsuccessfully to push it to the back of his mind. It all reminded him of that voice. The one that felt like glass shards in his skull and fire across his skin. O’Neal rubbed at his face as if to wipe away the memory and Theodore’s lingering influence. Was he just imagining the feeling of sticky, feverish skin covering his cheek? Was he still alone in this room? The longer he scratched at his face the less sure he was of the answer to either question.

Ignoring the incessant buzzing in the back of his head, O'Neal looked around his Room a bit more carefully, searching for answers. Maybe this was Hell. He deserved it after what he tried to do to Sebastian and Yukiko. His free hand instinctively clutched around a flamethrower that wasn't there anymore and he hated himself for it. Yukiko was his closest friend and teammate and he nearly...He hoped they were ok.

O’Neal forced his thoughts back to the present as he realized he was still absentmindedly clawing a hole in his cheek. As he drew his hand back he was surprised to find red under his fingernails. Dead men didn’t bleed, did they? How did this afterlife even work? He almost wished he’d paid more attention in church as a kid but now the thought of churches made him want to vomit. Desperate for any sort of distraction from the wrongness of the entire situation, O’Neal strode purposefully to his desk, sat down in his chair, and turned his radio on.

A sharp burst of static screeched out from the machine and O’Neal couldn’t help covering his ears with his hands to block out the awful noise. It echoed around his skull regardless, paralyzing him with pain and preventing him from turning it off. All he could do was grit his teeth and try to work through the waves of agony in his head, like the worst hangover imaginable. Worse, even. So much worse. This had to be Hell, disguising itself as a safe place just to mock him.

 _I deserve this,_ he reminded himself. _I’m nothing but a fucking coward who tried to kill the people keeping me safe._

_I was nothing but a liability._

_Couldn’t be bothered to leave my safe house even to save myself, let alone my own team._

_Better off dead where you can’t be in the way, Liam._

_Even Sebastian didn’t really need you, he would've been just fine on his own._

 His thoughts mixed with the static and were beginning to sound very much like someone else.

  _Only one person found you useful, Liam._

_One person gave you a chance._

The Room was beginning to burn around him but he kept his eyes shut against the smoke and fire, curling in on himself and clutching at his head.

_You liked it, didn’t you?_

_You felt powerful, brave._

_They tried taking that away from you, remember?_

A very familiar presence loomed behind O’Neal, though he still refused to look. Father Theodore leaned in close, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. It felt like a searing hot iron on his skin. O’Neal screamed.

_I gave you a choice._

_Would you have chosen differently if you had the chance?_

\------------------------------------

“O’Neal? O’Neal, wake up! C’mon Liam, you’ve made it this long.”

O’Neal spluttered awake, jolting up only to find himself gently pushed back down into the cushions under him. Every inch of his body burned and it felt like he’d never catch his breath. He had no idea what was happening anymore and didn’t want to know, keeping his eyes squeezed shut to avoid the hellfire and demons he was sure still occupied the other side of his vision.

“You still with us, O’Neal? You don’t have to talk or anything, just give us a sign you’re awake.” The new, yet familiar voice said. O’Neal risked cracking one eye open, at first seeing only darkness and for a terrifying moment thinking he was still in his personal Hell. Then Sebastian Castellanos’ face popped into view.

“What.” Was the only thing he managed to gasp. O’Neal rubbed weakly at his face and tried to catch his bearings. This changed things. Now all he had were questions. Where was he? What happened? Why wasn't he dead? Why was Sebastian there? _Where’s Yukiko?_ He needed answers but he could barely focus on breathing, let alone speaking.

“That's it. Just take it easy, buddy. You're safe now.” All the nervous tension in Sebastian’s shoulders seemed to leave as soon as he was sure O'Neal was awake and he slumped back down against the coffee table he'd been sitting on. The man looked like he could pass out at any second.

Looking past Sebastian, O’Neal set about figuring out where the hell he was. A couple of burning logs in the fireplace (which he promptly looked away from, pushing the rising panic away) made up the only light in the room, but it was enough for him to figure out the general shapes of a couple chairs and a sofa haphazardly positioned nearby, identical to the one he was lying on. The hotel? How could he be in the hotel? 

O’Neal tried sitting up again, slower this time. He regretted it instantly, feeling every nerve in his body light up like hot needles. Sebastian was at his side in a moment to help. O’Neal wanted to push him away but the attempt had already sapped him of most of his energy. He felt nauseous and more than a little delirious from how much pain he was in, but together they managed to prop him up to where he could get a better view of his own body.

He wished he’d stayed down. He was wearing sweats and a loose t-shirt and he briefly wondered when and how his clothes managed to change, but that wasn’t what made his heart drop. Bandages concealed the worst of the burns, but there weren’t nearly enough to completely hide all the raw, blistered skin covering O’Neal’s body. It made no sense. Injuries weren’t supposed to transfer from STEM to the real world. Phantom pain, sure, but not actual, physical injuries. It wasn’t possible. “W-we’re still in Union, aren’t we?” He choked out his realization, struggling to keep his breathing even.

“Yeah,” Sebastian replied, refusing to look O’Neal in the eye, “It’s a long story but yeah, we’re still in Union.” A long, tense silence stretched between them. O’Neal finally noticed his glasses sitting on the table next to Sebastian (where’d he even find them?) and motioned for them, putting them on as soon as the man handed them over. They didn’t do much good anymore, his left eye was still completely fucked up and they rubbed uncomfortably against a burn across his nose, but wearing them was the closest thing he’d felt to “normal” since he’d woke up. With his vision a little more clear, he could better see the details of the room, further confirming he was in the hotel. There was also a shape lying on the other couch, though he couldn’t tell who it was in the dim light.

“How am I even still alive?” The question was mostly rhetorical. He didn’t expect an answer. Nothing made sense anymore anyways. He felt hysterical laughter bubbling up in his chest, but it made his lungs hurt and he broke down into a fit of coughing instead. He curled in on himself and screwed his eyes shut against yet another wave of nausea.

“Hoffman helped me get you and Torres out of the Marrow,” Sebastian said. Torres was the one on the other couch, O’Neal guessed, though he had no idea what she was even doing here. “She refused to let either of you die. We found a couple more surviving operatives here and they had supplies. Lucky, huh?” There was a tinge of...Something sad at the edge of the other man’s voice that O’Neal picked up on immediately. He didn’t like it.

“Where’s Yukiko?”

“She’s...Gone.” Sebastian stared very intently at his hands.

O’Neal refused to believe what he was hearing. Yukiko couldn’t be gone. Gone just meant...Out looking for more survivors or supplies or doing _anything_ that didn’t involve any of the gruesome scenarios running through his mind. He refused to believe it, and yet he found himself asking, “What do you mean, _gone?_ ”

The expression on Sebastian’s face as he finally looked up at him confirmed O’Neal’s worst fear. “We...I had to stop Theodore. She refused to stay behind, insisted that I couldn’t go alone. And...And they got her,” He took a deep breath, “I tried to save her, O’Neal. I really did. I’m sorry.”

O’Neal stared. He wanted to scream, wanted to break something, wanted to hurt Sebastian for letting her die. But all he could do was sit there, wheezing and glaring at the other man with enough anger to burn holes in him. Sebastian’s silence and the way he’d gone back to avoiding looking at him only served to piss O’Neal off more. With a sudden surge of adrenaline he attempted to stand up, fully intending to punch Sebastian in his stupid face. Instead, his legs immediately gave out with a jolt of agony and Sebastian caught him before he could hit the floor.

Last remains of his strength gone and now in twice as much pain as when he woke up, all O’Neal could do now was collapse against Sebastian and cry. He sobbed into the other man’s chest, hurt and grief overriding any pride he had left, clinging to Sebastian’s shirt as the detective carefully navigated the both of them back to the couch.

It didn’t take long for him to pass out again, this time into a mercifully dreamless sleep. 

\------------------------------------

Sebastian felt more than a little awkward with the now-unconscious man leaning into him. He laid O’Neal back on the couch, grimacing at the tears and spit and just a little blood on the front of his shirt. He wiped it off and sighed. That...Wasn’t how he’d wanted that conversation to go. Hadn’t wanted to have that conversation at all, especially not with the state O’Neal was currently in. Sebastian couldn’t even imagine how he was feeling.  At least he seemed to breathe a little easier in his sleep.

“Good to see the poor guy still has some fight left in him.” Came the voice from the other couch. Torres was awake. She looked pretty rough too, but all things considered, at least she still had most of her skin. “Thought he wasn't gonna make it for a bit there.”

“You should be resting too, y'know.” Sebastian busied himself with adjusting O’Neal’s bandages to hide his expression from her, making sure the other man hadn't reopened any wounds during his fit.

“Speak for yourself, I feel fine!” To demonstrate she got up and walked over with seemingly no issue, though Sebastian caught the way she clutched at her stomach just out of the corner of his eye. Nonlethal it may have been, but removing the bullet from her gut in a dark hotel lobby hadn’t been exactly pleasant for anyone involved. The rest of her injuries had been similarly superficial, the only other concern being a blow to the head that knocked her out of commission for a bit. “If anyone should be resting, it’s you. I haven’t seen you take a second for yourself even once since we got here.”

As if to prove her point, Sebastian found himself stifling a yawn. “Someone has to keep everyone safe…” Torres didn’t look convinced.

“The other survivors are keeping an eye on things right now and all you’re doing is hovering over me and O’Neal. No one’s going anywhere, just relax for a bit.”

“Something tells me you're not gonna back off of this.” Sebastian sighed. Torres crossed her arms, silently daring him to argue. “Alright, alright. Let me just go check on Lily first and then I'll...Take a nap or whatever.”

“Daddy?” The quiet voice came as if on cue. The little girl had been put to bed in one of the rooms near the lobby. This was the third time she’d had trouble sleeping through the night in it.

“Is it the nightmares again, sweetheart?” Sebastian took a moment to throw the thin blanket on the back of the couch over O’Neal, then went over and picked his daughter up, cradling her close. Lily nodded, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“It’s too dark in there.”

“Would you feel better sleeping out here?” Lily stared apprehensively at O’Neal. No doubt she had done her fair share of avoiding Theodore’s most loyal henchmen and his injuries no doubt reminded her of them. Sebastian rubbed her back comfortingly. “It’s alright, hon. He won’t hurt you. He’s on our side.”

Lily trusted her father’s words, the fear leaving her face immediately. She yawned again. “Is he ok?”

“He will be. C’mon.” Ignoring Torres’ impatient foot-tapping, Sebastian plopped into one of the nearby chairs with his daughter, kicking his legs up over the arm of it. “We’re gonna sleep out here tonight. Is that alright with you, Torres?” He asked, barest hint of amusement in his voice.

“Looks like you’ve made up your mind already.” Torres snorted. She returned to her own couch, flopping down with little regard for her injuries and wincing as a result. “The others will wake us up if something happens, it should be fine. G’night, you two.” With that, she rolled over to face away from them, seeming to fall asleep almost immediately.

Lily laid her head on her dad’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Sebastian brushed her hair out her face and kissed her forehead. “Good night, sweetheart. Love you.” He whispered, shutting his own eyes and almost immediately feeling exhaustion overtake him. Everything was fucked up, the Plan had gone completely wrong, but at least they all had each other. They could make this work.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoffman's death (besides Baker and Harrison's but they were already mostly dead so lmao) is honestly the only one that I absolutely cannot think of a good way to retcon, but it is an (almost) Everyone Lives AU sooooooo.........Assume she's just chilling in STEM's basement with Sykes for now, I'll think of something. The unknown makes for good angst.
> 
> I've never written fanfic before, hell I haven't written anything significant since high school. But the idea sunk its claws in my brain and won't let go so I thought I'd give it a try! I hope it's not too obvious I've never done this? :S I do welcome (gentle) critique though!


End file.
